


Dead Man’s Float

by silentflux



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-23
Updated: 2007-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:34:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentflux/pseuds/silentflux





	Dead Man’s Float

_**FIC: Dead Man's Float, Torchwood, Ianto/Jack, FRT**_  
 **Title:** Dead Man’s Float

 **Author:** Andrea

 **Fandom:** Torchwood

 **Pairing:** Jack/Ianto

 **Rating:** FRT

 **Warnings:** Slashiness, of course

 **A/N:** For my comm [](http://community.livejournal.com/rounds_of_kink/profile)[**rounds_of_kink**](http://community.livejournal.com/rounds_of_kink/). My first stab at a Torchwood fic. Thanks to [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=onigaminanaashi)[****](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=onigaminanaashi)for the encouragement and the quick and dirty beta. All mistakes remaining are mine. Hope you enjoy it! J

Prompt: “Don’t stop believing.” Unrequited love

~ * ~

 _The fragrance always remains in the hand that gave the rose._ \- Heda Bejar

Ever since the affair with Mary, Tosh was almost hyperaware of the others in the team. Their hopes, fears, the complexities of them all rolled up in beauty and ugliness. Human nature. The tapestry of it humbled and disturbed her with intricacy of everything – the threads of anger and loss and wonder laced through everything and everyone haunted her.

Owen was not someone she truly thought she wanted anymore. Not really. He was her friend, but his flaws grated against her own and she would never be able to actually offer him any real trust. And that would destroy them both. She gave up that dream and was surprised at how much it didn’t really hurt.

Gwen turned out to be as lovely as she had seemed. Her imperfections and mistakes were made honestly and without contemplation or calculation. There was an inherent sweetness and optimism about her that Tosh enjoyed being around.

Jack was just Jack, as always. It bothered Tosh that she’d only heard him the once – only when he wanted her to. It was more disturbing because of what it said about him than the fact that she couldn’t read his mind. She hadn’t really wanted to.

Now, Ianto was another matter. While she knew Owen would always lash out in his pain, make it known to others so that they could help him, she also knew that Ianto was completely different. Quiet, controlled with an iron grip on most emotions, Ianto was – different.

She’d been aware of his and Jack’s quiet affair since the first time she’d seen Jack touch him with softness. Not love, she thought. But softness around his eyes, in the caress. Yes. It had just registered and she’d accepted and moved on.

Ianto was a mystery to her. His pain was bone deep, but he never allowed anyone to see it. The only noticeable sign she could find was the tightness with which he held himself, evident in every stiff movement. It made her want to reach over and hug him – smooth away that hurt and aching she had felt. But it wasn’t her place to do so.

She kept an eye on him, though. Watching for the times when he needed space and others when he needed company to shut out whatever noise was going on in his head that she could no longer hear.

One day a case had put Jack in a particularly foul mood. His biting humor had cut into every victim he could find, and Ianto was apparently not immune. She watched through the glass of Jack’s office walls as the younger man’s body language and stance tightened almost impossibly. His steps as he left the office were so carefully controlled that Tosh winced in sympathy.

Thinking to distract him, she called out, “I’m ordering lunch, Ianto. Do you want pizza or Chinese?”

When no response was forthcoming, she allowed herself to look up at him and flinched at the blankness of his face, eyes flickering with anger and pain. Hopping off her seat, she slowly approached him and wrapped her hand into the crook of his elbow, his body immediately reacting out of habit to allow the gesture.

“C’mon,” she said softly. “Leave him with his anger for a bit and come to lunch with me.”

~ * ~

It was like this for a while. The quiet stillness, polite conversation and easy banter between the two of them comforted Tosh. She just hoped she was helping to cushion his pain as he was hers. The friendship between them grew into a place of solace and safety for her. Everything about this new facet of her relationship with Ianto was to offer and receive the comfort of having someone who knew and could understand, someone who wouldn’t ask or push, somewhere to just _be_.

~ * ~

“Are you coming for dinner tonight?” Tosh asked quietly, seeing how edgy her friend was once again.

Ianto’s jaw was clenched too tight to answer her with more than a stiff nod. She surreptitiously reached over and squeezed his hand for a moment before turning back to her programs. She didn’t notice the scrutiny that both of them were under from the office behind them.

~ * ~

Ianto arrived late, practically vibrating under his tight control. She pulled him inside and pressed a glass of wine into his hand and waited. Sometimes he would talk to her. Most times he wouldn’t. But she always kept him company as he worked through it.

“He thinks we’re sleeping together.” The words were precisely measured and bitten off as Tosh nearly choked on her mouthful of wine. “I guess I’m not spending as much time there at night as he’s used to.”

She nodded, her mind whirling at the implication of Jack believing Ianto or she had sought each other out for sexual companionship or whatever the fuck he called it. She snorted her annoyance. He obviously didn’t realize the extent of Ianto’s loyalty to him. Probably didn’t even recognize that it was love.

“Are you going to set him straight?” she asked quietly before letting the silence fold in around them again as he considered his answer. The soft sounds of her apartment muffled the bustle of the city beyond as they sat together on her couch until the buzzer on the oven went off.

Putting dinner together and laying it out on the table that was already set, Tosh looked up to see Ianto watching her. She smiled at him and invited, “Come and eat. You’ll have plenty of time to brood later.”

He nodded and joined her at the table.

~ * ~

Stuffed full with wine and Tosh’s cooking, Ianto allowed her to hug him tightly before he left. He wasn’t really sure where he was headed until he got there. The Hub. It was more of a home to him than his apartment, and Jack was there. He found that to be essential to grounding himself, no matter what emotional turmoil occurs, no matter how much he hurts. As much as he enjoyed Tosh’s soothing calm, Jack’s presence was incomparable. And he craved it, no matter how often he told himself it was stupid.

Grabbing his stash of scotch from the locked drawer behind the counter, he headed back to make some coffee. He guessed it was odd – making coffee for comfort instead of tea. He considered it was most likely Jack’s fault. The other man always tasted of his coffee, and Ianto had come to appreciate the bitter liquid over his beloved tea. Even now.

Pouring a fresh cup into one of the larger mugs, he added a large shot of scotch. He was long through that mug and several others, floating in his thoughts as he lounged on the couch in the break room before he felt him.

“I thought you were at Tosh’s tonight,” came the quiet accusation, the tone questioning and painfully neutral. Ianto turned his head and watched Jack for a moment before allowing himself a soft sigh.

“I was,” he answered drily, enjoying the blurring of the edges that is contributed to just the right amount of alcohol. “Lovely supper. Tosh is an excellent cook.”

He saw the flex of that strong jaw when Jack clenched his teeth, the man’s muscles under his skin fascinated Ianto endlessly and he stared.

“I’m sure she is,” Jack choked out tightly, and Ianto smiled. “What?” The question whipped out with annoyance.

“You know, for an intelligent man, you’re really quite dense,” Ianto drawled, his fingers tapping lazily on the side of his mug before he calmly took another sip of scotch and coffee.

Jack seemed frozen for a moment, every muscle humming with forced inaction. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he surprised himself by moving so quickly. For a drunk, Ianto was quite nimble and managed to elude the hand reaching out to grasp his shoulder.

“Don’t,” Ianto stated flatly, biting off the word to ensure he didn’t slur into any others. Jack somehow always broke through the ironclad control Ianto had perfected a long time ago. It was effortless and decimating when he just walked right through ever protective wall and every barrier that Ianto had erected. It always made him raw and bare and painfully open for all to see.

“Ianto,” Jack asked and demanded.

“No. What the fuck do you think I am, Jack? Just…don’t.” Ianto collected his bottle of scotch and turned to find a more solitary part of the Hub.

“Ianto.” The younger man paused, his stiff shoulders slumped as he fought against the need to turn toward that voice, to let Jack convince him with his touches and his eyes. To fall into that spell woven so well that Ianto doesn’t even care if it’s as real for Jack.

“What do you want from me?” Ianto’s voice was almost a whisper as he felt the air stir and the heat radiate at his back before he felt lips touch the bare skin just above his collar at the back of his neck. A shudder ran through him and his lips parted to let loose a protest, but no sound managed to fight its way out. Arms wrapped around his torso, hands flat on his stomach as he was pulled back against the body he loved, the man he held above all others. Eyes fluttering shut, Ianto let his breath leave with a sigh, no hope for escape from this even if he’d wanted it. No matter how much it hurt, grating to the bone, bleeding from his heart. Loving Jack. He was here. Always.  



End file.
